Search America's historic newspaper pages from 1836-1922 or use the U.S. Newspaper Directory to find information about American newspapers published between 1690-present. Chronicling America is sponsored jointly by the National Endowment for the Humanities external link and the Library of Congress. Learn more

Download & Play

Questions

Newspaper Page Text

oO00o
What Will Become of Annie?
By BRAND WHITLOCK
AUTlTOR OF "TE TRTEENTU DISTRICT." "ER ' TE VARIETT."
"TIE EAPT AVERAGE." "TIE TURN OF THE BALANCE," ETC., ETC.
upO To b- - o
Coorritsb by The Bobbs-Merrill Compear
PRING had come back to
Leadam street. The moist
cobblestones had steam
ed in the new sun all the
afternoon; sparrows were
sweeping up to the eaves,
trailing strings and long
straws after them; from the back
porches of the flats were loud, awak
ing, tinny sounds, breaking the long.
silence. The clank of the cable-cars
was borne over the roofs, clearly now
in the damp, heavy atmosphere; from
somewhere came the jingle of a street
piano. Floating down the mild after
noon came the deep, mellow note of
some big propeller, loosing her winter
moorings at last and rousing to greet
the tug that would tow her out of the
narrow river. Kelley. the policeman,
strolled along the sidewalk, with his
hands locked behind him, his nose in
the air. sniffing eagerly and pleasur
ably. He had left off his skirted over
coat, and changed his clumsy cap for
his helmet.
Annie had sat at her window all the
afternoon, but, as the spring day wore
toward its close, she began to realize
that only the melancholy, and none of
the promise of this first spring day
had touched her. She had thrown
open the window, to test the quality
of the air. Now and then a warm
breath came wandering in off the
prairies, though when it met the cold,
persistent wind from the lake, It hesl
tated, and timidly turned back. But
Annie would not let herself doubt that
the spring had come. She knew that
in time the prairie wind would woo
its way until it would be playing with
the waves of the lake itself, the little
waves that danced all day, blue and
white, In the sunshine. And then the
summer would come, and on Sunday
afternoons Jimmy would take her out
to Lincoln Park and they would have
their supper at Fisher's Garden.
Leadam street was dull enough on
week days; on Sundays it was wholly
mournful.
Once Annie saw a woman, with a
shawl over her head and a tin bucket
in her hand, go into Englehardt's
place, down the street. The woman
went in furtively, and brushed hastily
through the "Family Entrance."
though why could not be told. She
went there nearly every hour of every
day. Then Annie was left alone. She
did not turn inward to the flat; that
was too still and lonesome, and it was
growing dark now, as the shadows
gathered. She heard the strenuous
gongs of the cable-cars over in State
street, and she could imagine the
erowds, gay from their Sunday holl
day, that filled them, clinging even to
the runningboards. She might have
gone out and been with them, as ev
ery one else ia the street seemed to
have done, but she would not for
worlds have been away from home
When Jimmy came. She heard the
gle ofi the street piano, too; she
wished it would come down that way.
She would gladly have emptied her
prse for the Dago.
It was et unusual for Annie to be
left lone, and she bhad grown used to
.ii-almost; as used as a woman can
--·a the wife of a politician
Jimmy has told her that she most not
worry at any of his absences; an
a·deman could never tell what might
deta him. She had but a vague no
ti aof the things that might detain
as aldmaa, though she had no doubt
of their Importance At times she
thought she felt an intimate little
barm I .the importance that thus re
oced.Ital upona her, but, neverthe
las heart was never quite easy
ptil heard Jimmy's step on the
tb.ir and his key Ia the latch, and
the-JyJ ame to the little Sat, and
stayed there, trembling and fearful,
tll be weat away again. She had
o ýto be so dependent on Jimmy.
S,, aee she had been graduated
em the eaonvunt his great, stroug
pernality had stood between her and
the w ld, that, as her girhood had
- into woanahood, sh had
' ly remegniand tih ehange, and she
rm eda irl still, alone but for
him; he Lwas her whole life Bhe had
duble his entranee iato pottes 'at
-_t, _ t as she had doubted his go.
lato ,the saloom busineas, though
e momely undenstoed eitther at their
urles aigrtkeaes, Father Do 1
- d- d her she was a tortunate
glrl to ae Jimmy for a huasad, amd
that ad eam r ed a h. N r a oh
bedam was that polties seaemd to
-eet Jmr awar from home ofteamer
t-an thed werkit the packitlg
I. amd to: she had trembled at it
at trimes, d at tman ehad rown a
Ml. trighteae ah msas in pol
Mioe_ had loss e w. er maer, an e
Damde her spied, but it semiS et have
ther pbmdaret him tha am
hes. . was ae l4aeelent gr
her: m eu a e ad m a a N.
Io gems as hag b1 i. herm- n iot was
iw emi o: mad e dt at elavom
r .a eg ats, at theon, was
sY nut ban -min teds • whom *
M..sr lsa t.be d t wasL audia
puY -.reeS that aJeim ha ad nt
the maa were away, e - ae
ab thett r an TaS.
4 $ *ee ud haveadrslm
t thim s in her.
ap thesMi~th sh
MWi mt
44~)~C I
newsboy, far out of his usual haunts,
crying an extra. She could not distin
gulsh the words in which he bawled
his tidings, and she thought nothing of
it. One of Jimmy's few rules was that
she was not to read the papers. But,
when the heavy voice was gone, she
found that it had had a strange. de
pressing effect upon her; she longed
for Jimmy to come; the day had
dragged itself by so slowly, and some
thing of its somberness had stolen
into her soul. She sighed, and leaned
her chin on her arm; her back was
growing tired, and beginning to ache.
Then suddenly she heard horses' hoofs
and the roll of a carriage in the street.
She rose and leaned far out of the
window to welcome him. The cab
drew up: it stopped; the door opened.
But the man who got out was not
Jimmy. It was Father Daugherty.
She knew him the instant she saw the
fuzzy old high hat thrust out of the
cab. and caught the greenish sheen of
the shabby cassock that stood away
from the fringe of white hair on his
neck in such an ill-fitting, ill-becoming
fashion. The old man did not look
up, but tottered across the sidewalk.
Annie gasped, and scarce could
move. In a moment more she heard
the old steps on the stairs. the steps
that for forty years had gone on so
many errands for others, kind and
merciful errands all of them, though
for the most part sad. He was soon
beside her, and she looked up into the
gentle face that was so full of the
woes of humanity. He had driven at
once from the hospital in the cab they
had sent to fetch him. Jimmy's last
words had been:
"What will become of Annie?"
The death of Alderman Jimmy Tier
nan at any time would have been a
shock. When death came to him by
a pistol ball it created what the news
papers, in the columns they were so
glad to fill that Monday morning. de
fined as a profound sensation. This
sensation was most profound in two
circles in the city, outwardly uncon
nected, though bound by ties which it
was the constant and earnest effort
of both to keep secret and unknown.
The city council had had a special
session on Saturday night, and had
passed the new gas franchise. Alder
man Tiernan had had charge of the
fight. Malachi Nolan was away, and
Baldwin had picked out Tiernan as
the most trustworthy and able of
those of the gang who were left be
hind. Jimmy had felt the compliment,
and gloried in it It was the biggest
thing that had fallen to him In his
political life, and he was determined
that he would make all there was to
be made out of the opportunity. Not
in any base or sordid sense-that is,
not wholly so; that would come, of
course, but he felt beyond this a joy
in his work; the satisfaction of mere
success would be his chief reward, the
glory and the professional pride he
would feel. He relished the fight
against the newspapers, against "pub
lic opinion," whatever that was;
agalnst the element that called itself
the "better" element.
He was fully determined that no
step should be misplaced; he count
ed his men over and over again; he
checked them off mentally, and it all
turned out as he had said. Every one
was present, every one voted, and vot
ed "right," when the roll was called;
the new gas franchise was granted;
Jimmy had delivered the goods.
It was natural that such a glorious
victory should be celebrated, and the
gang, when It assembled in Jimmy's
pinee, immediately after the session
was overr cpuld not restrain its Impae
tience. The boys longed to have the
fruits of the day's work; with their
wages they could celebrate with glad,
care-free hearts. But Jimmy was of a
Oaelie cunning. He would not jeopar
dise the victory at that stage by any
lndlsretion. He saw at a glance the
mood the gang was tn. He smiled, as
he always smiled-and any one, to see
his smile, muost have loved him--but
be shook his bead.
'"The draink's tn you, boys," he said,
"and you cn' trust your tonrgues.
You'll have to wait Moaday anight
you'll be over. Then we'll talk bsI
ess.-"
Iueasceleosly, the still were
bor;: in a struge dual pontality they
saw the safety there was In his de
cision; sad, tn the paralystds of will
his magnettsm worked In them, lthey
loved him the mere ror it. The re
membered that It was just what Man
ehli would bave ~dae. Ad s o, nois
and ezelld uas thy wer, they ap.
pladed his sagityr. The they ave
themselves ever reservedy thidr
apetitas. It was a mos night In
the samals of the era Jimmy him
ws Joned ti the reelry. ad In the
alm salet Snday moro t withl the
new sunlight rlmg glaring i his
swoilea, aeeng eyes, he f him
s*lf, with a comp~erm, In a Clark
reet ehop hose. Jt as they were
goin to oder beeaat, a yeong e
eme in, with a icek leek Ino is wys
No one saw It them, thg they al
rembered tIt terward. Jlimny
greeted him as gayy as he greatel
evrybody, but t yrung men di net
warm to Jimmy's gseetln. Ther were
words, the qulek rush eo anger tI
Jimmy's tae, a blow, nd the pltm
,aet. At Srtt the aewusppes w-r
glad to itree some sielster eoansee
tin between the franehe 0gM san
the tragedy. Afterward, they said It
was onl some private grudge. No
one deamed that Jimmy Tieraus had
annemy ao nerth.
At the hespital, assay spened his
wa, end en his hen, a.wm very
waiSm tmeas was a sma*e ge.n. the
lagi ot ki wiohels ue. b1n aiende
w, wftk hke, ead they wept, on
L--L ~lltY il(WY-Lr *ri
had come to Leadam street spread
blackly. Many a man, and many a
woman, and many a child, cried. The
poor had lost a friend, and they would
not soon forget him. In the long days
of the distant winter they would think
of him over and over. Every one in
that ward was poor, though the re
formers, condescending that way
whenever Jimmy was up for re-elec
tion, somehow never grasped the real
significance of the fact. And it was
a somber Monday around the city
hall. Jimmy had been a man with a
genius for friendship. The gang
mourned him in a sadness that had
added to it the remorse of a recent
sobriety, but their grief, genuine as it
was, had in it an evil bitterness their
hearts would not have owped. They
were restive and troubled. Whenever
they got together in little groups, they
read consternation in one another's
faces; and now and then they cursed
the caution they had extolled on Sat
urday night. Besides these varied ef
fects, Jimmy's death, while it could
not create a crisis in the market,
nevertheless gave rise to nervous
feelings in certain segments of finan
cial circles. It was inevitable that
financial and political circles should
overlap and Intersect each other in
this matter, and there were confer
ences which seemed to reflect a sense
of personal resentment at Jimmy for
having been murdered so inopportune
ly. In the end, the financiers were
peremptory with Baldwin. He must
fix the thing some way. And he as
sured them that he would give the
appointment of the administrator his
immediate attention. Already, be said,
he had a man in view who would be
reasonable and practical. There were
suggestions of strong-handed methods,
but that was never George R. Bald
win's way. He went out with his air
of affability unimpaired. Meanwhile.
political and financial circles could
only wait and hope.
The excitement of the first few
days following the tragedy kept An
nie's mind occupied; but, when the
funeral was over, and she returned to
her little fiat, when the neighborly
women had at last gone back to their
homes and their interrupted duties.
and the world to its work, Annie was
I'-I
n"t.FATBER3It 3AID.It
MVAS 3O.30 GOOD TO lE.AL
W1 3 no 30 BuflO ! *'
vaa
left to face life alone. She could not
adjust herself to the change, and fear
and despair added their blackness to
her grief. Father Daugherty knew
how great a blow Jimmy's death
would be to her, and, though he gave
what comfort be could, he left her
grief to time. He did not belong to
the preaching orders. But, as he pon
dered in his wise old head, he shrewd
ly guessed that the careless Jimmy
would hardly have made provision
against anything so far from his
thoughts as death, and he perceived
that if Annie were to be protected
from a future with which she, alone
and unaided, would hardly have the
capacity to deal. some one must act.
Long ago might Father Daugherty
have celebrated his silver jubilee as
pastor of St. Patrick's, but he was not
the man for celebrations. The parish
was one big family to him, and he
knew the joys sad sorrows, the little
hopes and pathetic ambitions of every
one In it. The sorows of his chil
dren he bore in his own heart; they
had wrought their complex and tragol
tale in his tae. The jots be left
them to taste alone; but be found too
mueb sorrow to have time for joy.
Daring all those years he had give
himself unsparingly; tf it was all he
had to give, it.was the meat precious
thing he could have given-4 daily
serlcee that exhauste a tempera
meat keeL y sensitive and syIpa
thetie. So e had rwn old and
white befloe his time. Many a man
had be kept straight when times were
hard st the right to work denied
him; many a widow bad e saved
tlem the wiles of the claimagat. The
esrportiens and th lawyers hated
ble.
And so, an Meonda morning, the
lerks of the probate court had
soareely had time to yawn reluctant
ly beare begiming a new weer's
work, when ather Daughrt appear
ed to sie anse'a waiver ao her own
right to be SW" aimitratri eO
the estate of James Tirera. deceased,
with an appesateo r the appoint
meat. lsmese, of ro s Fn hder I
as admiistra r
He must beep a set of blasks,"
whiapeed os cleft to another.
As rather Daughert went about his
ivnter., be w taw m the result
would be what e hd peeated. Jim
my had left so estes, no surance,
othiU but the salee h'ad that,
with Jsoy dead, was nathing, for its
valuse b all n Jtum'a ersonality
sae apt amet"hi oh stous in
- helk . resu would hardly
perer ae buhyig of him, when
tha emus ao he -res had bea
Mile, Anes vwe hate smnews pen
agmr.'At ___ 4gh sewss a M
_7 tw
counts meanwhile, and it could not
long pretend to have forgotten mate
rial things. It would present its bills,
and they must be paid. Annie would
have hardly a cent to meet them with.
And Father Daugherty knew, even if
Annie did not know, what the world
would do then.
Yet he smiled, though he shook his
head, as he thought of the free-hand
ed, indiscriminating generosity that
had been akin to the improvidence of
Jimmy's nature. And now he had but
one more duty to perform; the safe
in Jimmy's saloon had not been open
ed. No one, not even the bartender,
knew the combination, and Father
Daugherty had a locksmith to drill the
lock. The gang had attended Jim
my's funeral in black neckties, and
had mourned him sincerely, but, now
that be was bufled, their attitude be
came the common worldly attitude.
with perhaps a little more than the
usual aggressiveness in it. They were
in a quandary as to the bundle in the
new gas franchise, and many confer
ences with Baldwin had nerved them
to desperate expedients. So it was on
Baldwin's advice that they determined
to be represented at the opening of
the safe Two of the number were de
tailed to this duty. McQuirk of the
Ninth, and ltretzenger or the Twenty
fourth. When they made their de
mand on Father Daugherty, explaining
that they came i,. their capacity as
.lJimmy's nearest friends, he assented
with a readiness that relieved them
both, and delighted Bretzenger,
though McQuirk, who knew Father
Daugherty better than his colleague
did, was fearful and suspicious.
Father Daugherty said that he had
thought of having witnesses, and they
would serve as well as any. It was
very kind of them.
The priest and the two aldermen
waited in the saloon for two hours
while the locksmith drilled away si
lently. The street door was closed:
the crape still hung from the handle
that had never gone unlatched so long
at a time before, the curtains were
drawn, and outside the crowds forever
shuffled by on the sidewalk, all obliv
ious to the little drama of hopes and
fears that was unfolding its cross-pua
poses within. The saloon was dark,
and an electric bulb glowed to shed
light for the locksmith. Tbhe two al
dermen puffted their cigars in silence.
save for an occasional whisper, one
with another. Father Daugherty's
gaunt form leaned against the dusty
bar, strangely out of keeping with
such a scene, though the saloons in
his parish knew him, especially on
Saturday nights, when he conducted
little raids of his own, and turned his
prisoners over to their wives. Now
his weary visage was relaxed in pa
tient waiting. At last the locksmith
dropped his tools, and said:
The thick steel doors swung out on
their nolseless hinles. The two alder
men sprang to the side of the safe.
The priest drew near slowly, but his
little eyes were turned on the alder
men, and they tell back a pace. Then
the priest's long figure sank to a
kneeling posture, and be peered into
the safe. There was nothing in view..
It was strangely empty, for a safe of
its monstrous size and mystery, and
the tenacity of its combination. He
thrust in his hand and rumbled
through all its hollow interior, and
then he drew forth-a soiled Ifea col
lar! It was ludicrous, and for ones
he liaghed, a little laugh. There
was ent a ledger, not a book.
"He kept no accounts, your river
eace," said McQutri.
"It was just libe him," said Father
Daugherty. But he kept em with his
search. And, wha he opened the lit
tle drawer of maplewood, he found a
parcel, dome sangly up in thick brown
paper. Hp tore it opes, and there
swelled late his sight pckages of
bank notes almost burstinta their
yellow paper straps. The bills were
new, and as freshly green as the
spring itself; more tempting thus,
me way, to the reluetant com
sciemce. The two aldermen beant over
the black stooeeping igure of the
priest, their eyes oxed on the mosney.
There it was at last, the bundle itself,
the price of. or a part of the price of
the new as franchise. The priest
straightened painfully, ad gut to his
feet He held the bundle in his thin
ugsers, and glanced at his witnaeses,
with a keen and eurious eye. They
met his gaes, expectant, eage, draw
lag dry, hot breaths. Involuntarily,
they extended their hands. Father
Daugherty looked at them. and a lt
tle twinkle of amusement showed In
the eess that were wontedly so mild
sad gee
"Would you?" he said.
The twd aderme hastily raised
their hands, and togethe, In strange
aunse, wiped their >rews. The rooe
had addesy rews het far them, and
their brews were wet, theugh Father
gherty was eat _ empese, as
1h4r s, ms et the~ .ere:r
ýrgt air; fitstwa N
77 ý ., '1º
have cursed Jimmy just then for his
excessive caution. It was McQuirk's
quick mind that thought first.
"Maybe there's writing," he said.
Father Daugherty looked long and
thoroughly, running his thin hand
deep into pigeon-holes and back into
the partitions, until the sleeves of his
shabby coat were pushed far up his
lean wrist.
"Not a scrap," he said.
"Then, maybe-" But McQuirk drew
Bretzenger away, and they went into
the darkness that lay thick as dust
in the back of the long room. Mean
while, Father Daugherty searched the
safe through and through. He found
nothing more. The strong-box had
had but one purpose, and it had served
it well. Then slowly, painfully, with
the clumsy, unaccustomed fingers that
had had small chance to count money,
he turned the packages over, counting
them carefully, wetting his trembling
fingers now and then. The man who
had drilled the safe stood looking on.
with eyes that widened more and
more.
"HFow much is there. Father?" he
said, at length. He extended a grimy
forefinger hesitatingly, as if to touch
the package the priest balanced on his
palm. But he did not touch it, any
more than if it had been something
sacred in that clean, sacerdotal hand.
"Fifty thousand." the priest an
swered. His voice was a trifle husky.
"Fifty thousand!" the man ex
claimed. And then he added, in awe:
"Dollars! Doesn't look like that much,
does it?"
"No." Father Daugherty answered.
He had been a little surprised him
self. There was something disappoint'
ing in the size of the package. He
had never seen so much money be
fore, and its tremendous power, its
tremendous power for evil, as he sud
denly thought, was concentrated In a
compass so small that the mind could
but slowly wheel about to the new con
ception. The locksmith spoke.
"Might I-might I-hold it a second
-in my own band?" he said.
The priest gave the bundle into the
hand hardened by so much honest toil.
The man held it, heaving it up and
down incredulously, testing its weight.
Then he gave it back.
"Thanks," he said, and sighed.
The two aldermen had returned
from their little conference.
"Your riverence," began McQuirk
hesitatingly, "might we have a word
with you-in private?" He looked sus
piciously at the workman. The priest
went with them a little way apart.
"We know about that," McQuirk
pointed to the bundle.
"You do, do you?" said the priest
sharply.
"Yes, father," Bretzenger said.
"It's-it's-well, it belongs to the
company, sir."
"What company ?"
"Well, you know, the new ga-ah,
that is, Mr. Baldwin, the lawyer. You
know him?"
"George R.?" asked Fathe; Daugh
erty.
"Yes, your riverence," said both
men hopefully. "It should go back to
him."
The priest looked at them, and they
caught again that amused expression
in his face. It put them Ill at ease,
and it roused resentment in Bretse
ger, who felt that this calm priest
cqpld read him too well.
"None of It belongs to you, then, I
suppose?" observed Father Daugh
erty.
"Ah. well-of course," McQuirk
urged, and his tone showed that he
was trying, in his crude way, -to Iim
press the priest with an honest dis
interestednees. "Of course. Jimmy
was entitled to his piece."
"Sure!" Bretsenger salt swelling
with the little virtue be had found to
help him.
"But you say it ought to go back
to Baldwin, eh'"
"That's what we think, sir," they
chimed.
"'Well, he can come and identify it."
said Father Daugherty. He slowly
wrapped the package up, and. unbut
toning his long, rusty coat a little way
down from the throat, .stuffed the
money ito an inner poket. The
deed seened to madden Bretsenger,
and he moved a step forward. The
two others saw his motion. Tbhe
priest did not move, but be turned a
look on them, and raised his hand, and
McQuirk Wailed, a superstitious fear
in his eyed He stiffened his arm be
fore Bretseuger, and stayed him. And
then the priest stepped quiletly to the
safe, and pushed its door to with an
arUaP that seemed too weak and trail
to stir the heavy steel
"It looks to me, Michael," he was
saying gently, uas if addressing Me
Quirk alone, "Ike personal property,
and, asu m the admlnistrator, I sup
pose I'll have to take charge of it. If
any beside our dead friend owa it. let
them come forward and prove their
claim, and identify their property in
open court."
Pather Deaugher reported the
wheb afatr to the probate oourt, and
the udgoe when tbe time for fling
claims had elapsed, and he had waited
for th partl lar claim he knew
would net be preseated, ordered a die
tributon of tbe prseperty. ThekF a
ther Daugerty weot to the fat to me
AnnLe, brues th beadle, the oritginal
buatd, the beadle that had bought
the new gas franchise, Something of
the dr-amtls uality i the aituatio
had got late the 6ld priest's er
He knew that Aasm weeld appreiate
It all a meh better it she coudM se
the fortiae, Iad feel it, aad woeld
let her do for an histant before he
pt it away in the safety deposit
valts to await opportualty for its la
vestment
She loked at It lo and lm& ly
iag there In tbe lap o her black gowra.
Sh ecold not msp the amount.
though the old primet, l is forward,
with th enthusiasm of a boy sahlig
once more, afte so many years, In
hbs hollow yea, mi over and over:
"la at it, my ildU! Peel it!,
It's thousa dollars! Ad at's
all yours!"
She patted It. tederl ad aneo
tioately, with a set aad rsentseept
caEss, that the priest ew that
it was et tsr anytMahg that peakage
ofJ momey mlhbt bield r her In a
m--ae.I way, them or afterward. but
--h-.- Sir what it gave back for a
m I her do-sulate heart- And
gene- waaorae tt.d there
~~~- 'iiC7YM
passed out of his hantllds. aou:l n
sometimens lquestioned w~:i( :hr it
would ever do good in anyv onIr
hands. hut he had a sense of humor
too, a grim sense in this l'istance(.
when he thought of certain o',itical
and financial circles, even if he did
dust his thin hands c(arefully with his
spotless handkerchief hlien he laid
the money down.
Annie's eyes had filled with the
ready tears that welled to their sweep
ing. black lashes, and trembled there
as she raised her eyes to him.
"Ah, father," she said, "he was so,
so good to me, always-and so kind?
And see how thoughtful he was-to
leave me all this! Oh. Jimmy, my
poor Jimmy!"
And she rocked forward, like an old
woman, and wept.
TO THE ADVANCEMENT OF ART
Economic Inquiry, Conducted Along
Scientific Lines. Means Much to
the Human Race.
Notwithstanding the growth in re
cent becars of the work of the geologi
cal survey along practical economic
lines, scientific work has not been
neglected, according to the annual re
port of the director for last year. in
fact, in the survey the scientific inveb
tigations are inseparable from the
economic work, though the one or the
other may predominate in purpose ac
cording to the needs of the particular
research in hand. In any field econo
mic work of the highest rank is Im
possible without full knowledge of the
scientific laws and principles pertain
ing to the subject of the work, but as
there is no application of geology
which does not involve unsolved prob
lems, some of them of the highest im
portance, the best knowledge available
is nevertheless relative. It thus fol
lows that the broad and searching
observations which should accompany
every piece of good economic work
comprehend data that are eventually
combined in the construction of new
scientific hypotheses, some of which.
as more observations accumulate.
grow into established laws or princi
ples that are in turn of the greatest
practical consequence. Thus the de
tailed studies of the metalliferous de
posits in one region or another bring
to light evidence from which to deter
mine the genesis of the ores and the
modes or conditions by their occur
rence, and the economic inquiry be
comes more intelligent and successful
when once this new principle regard
ing the mode of an ore occurrence is
understood.
STRONG, BUr OLD IN YEARS
History Replete With Records of Men
Who Have Done Great Things Be
yond Their Allotted Space.
There are some old men who are
not to be despised. Some are apt to
think that none but young men can
do much. Some, indeed, shoot up like
a rocket, and go out like one. Others
rise slowly, like fixed stars, and as
they are slow to rise they are slow to
set.
Cromwell was only a captain when'
he was forty-one, and his greatest
deeds were performed between forty
eight and fifty-six, when he died.
Young was an old man when he
wrote some of his best poetry, and he
was sixty when he began hip "Night
Thoughts." Thomas Scott wrote as
much at seventy as at any period of
his life.
Talleyrand at the age of eighty
stood at the head of affairs in France
under Napoleon, and then under the
Bourbons.
When the Russians were deter
mined to make a stand and fight the
French before the wails of Moscow,.
they put old Kutsof at the head of
the army in place of Barclay de Tolly.
General Blucher was seventy when
he was defeated at Llgny and fell
under his horse. and the French' cav
alry rode over him; yet a day or two
after he led on his Prussians against
Napoleon at Waterloo. After many
years of warfare, those old men, Well
ington and Soult, stood at the head
of their respective cabinets, one In
England and the other In France. pre
serving by their talents the peace of
Europe and the world.
ecrates and Beauty.
All visltors to the museums of
Rome become familiar with the busts
of Socrates. Whe does not reeopizse
at first glance the almost comic face
with its turn-up nose and utter ab
sece of the slightest claim to good
looks? We cannoat help smaling at it
ad yet when we think of the man,
the ugliness of his face becomes pa
thetic. He worshiped beauty, his life
was devotml to teaching how life could
be made harmonious in every way and
such a nose must, in spite of his philo'
aophy, have been a contant trial to
him. His prayer was: "Grant me to
be beautital in the inner man sad all
I have of outward things to be at
peace with thooe withtn. May I coent
the wise man only rich; ad may my
store of gold be such as sob but the
good can bear."
He counted material wealth withoot
wealth of spirit a mockery and to have
outward beauty without inward beauty
was to be an imapoatet. Ill the same,
to have ones inward beauty so deniaed
by ne'e tece must bave been very an
noylng sad our smile at 8oerates may
well be minxed with a little sympathy.
Have Analyad Gease.
By the use of a new German lnstru
ment, which takes the Index of refrac
tion of mixed gases, Haber and lowe
are able to find the amount of carbon
dioxide and methane contained into
mine gases. The method is also us
ful in many other cases, such as for
besol vapors in tohe gapd distilled by
pas or coke plts, also sulphuras
anhydride in the uas comlns from
pyrltes roatln&l as well as peret
ages of osoae in the air. They mae
also able to heckb the purity of bydro
gepa made by the electrolytie prom ,
oberve the pgase in human breath
and carr out other very useoful tets.
We dees to be Imlsied aecrding
to ear *ertmtal virtws; w rea apt
ti ed y our sl~bt er asetis o
as inemisemna amens-Dserg ame
In- -.n
BAGOAD HAS BOOM
Holy Land, After Long Sleep, Is
Waking Up.
Yankee Fever cf Progress and Con.
struction Has Broken Out in Pal
estine and Swept East to
Ancient Chaldea.
London--The Holy Land i wak
ing up. A "boom" -a regular Yankee
fever of progress and construction
has broken out in Palestinet and swept
east to ancient ('haldean, ~here even
the old Garden of Eden is being Irri
gated and put back on the map and
the market.
Outside the crumbled walls of Nine
veh, Yankee mowing nmachines are
humming in wheat fielhds that cover
the bones of kings. kDown on the big
Euphrates irrigation dam cube con
j crete mixers front Chicago are busily
dig'sting old bricks, taken from the
walls of Nebuchadnezzar's palace at
ruined lIabylon Alelppo. so long a
"sleepy, oldi-orld Syrian toe n." is
planning a $5.000,000 union d(iepot, and
low-speed Jerusalem donkeys are now
dodging the noisy motorcycles of
nervous tourists-doing Palestine "or.
the high."
In the date gardens around Itagdad,
where for 2.000 years the Arab farm
er was content with his rude "cher
rid" (an ox-power goatskin and wind
lass device for lifting Irrigating wa
ter), over 400 English gas engines
now puff away, pumping water from
the ancient Tigris. On this same
historic stream motor boats from Ra
cine sputter about among high-pooped
Aram "safinas" and "bungalows"
still built just as in Sinbad's golden
age. In the dark, narrow, camel
smelling bazaar streets of Bagdad I
saw Yankee sewing machines, dollar
watches, safety razors and American
patent medicines, offered for sale be
side costly Persian rugs, bronzes,
sticky native candy, and prayer
bricks made from the holy dirt of
...
Ancient Well Near Bagdad.
Moslem graveyards. By one cable
order a Bagdad importer bought fifty
American reapers, for use in Assyrian
wheat fields
From this region-made famous by
New Testament history-the stagna
tion of centuries is passing, and
travel writers can no longer dub It
"changeless and Inert."
It's a railroad--the same mage
power that built up our vast west
that's rousing this long-dormant re
gion of the middle east. It's a great
railroad, too, greater tar in posslbll
ties than even the famous Russian
road across Siberia. Tbe "Bagdad
railway." this singularly signficant
road is called, and already it is half
completed. When finished it will
stretch 1,870 mlles-from Scatari to
Basra on the Persian gulf, the old
"Balsora" of Sinbad the sailer's tales.
From the Mediterranean to the Eu
phrates, now spanned by a temporary
bridge, the line is in operation, and
on three sections under construction
72.000 men are steadily at work. Prom
the Euphrates the ronte pushes east
to Mosul-on the site of old Nineveh
-thenee ddkr the classic Tigris to
Bagdad and Basra.
FINDS POISON IN FLOWERS
_',quet Carried to Sick Priend Affects
Clergyman, Cauelg Swelllng
of Neose.
Wilmington, Del.--Potson in a bo
q~uet of flowers is believed to have
caused a painful swelling in the face
of Dr. W. L. 8. Murray, oe of the
vetenm clergymen of the Methodist'
Eplicopal church, now statione at
Epwo'th church this city. While Ca
rying the flowers to a sick triend Doe
tr Murray inhaled their perfme.
The bouqnouet evidently ,onta·led a
po-son of some sort because smhortly
after there was a noteUable swellng
In the clergymaa's acose. which soon
spread over his whole face. Aside from
the ptn. Doctor Murray experienced
so seriou tnrable.
AUCTION OFF PETRIFIED MAN
_rewsme Patagelian Roll Sold
Under Hammer In Parle to
Highest iddek.
. Paris.-A petrifiled man was sold by
auetioce tin Paris recently. The man
lived some thousands of years ago in
Patagonia. He was about six feet five
lnches in height.
Thouah he is now a stone state.,
the body bears traces of two deep
wounmds. It is supposed that the man
wa killed, and that his body was
slowly changed to stone by the action
of water charged with lime salts.
Test Thre-Year-Old Eggs.
Trenton, N. J.-A test of egg
three yeins old was made by the sate
eOrd at heMth here. It the huar
matves $4,W worth of asmelet ga
het r slead f sree oglE aLra